


Yellow Daffodil and White Daisy

by AcidBlossom



Series: Hanahaki Comet [2]
Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Choking, Coughing, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Polyamory, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 21:36:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13490256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcidBlossom/pseuds/AcidBlossom
Summary: "Hanahaki Disease: the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear."After helping Dolokhov get through his case of Hanahaki Disease, Pierre never suspected he would fall victim to it as well. He especially never expected to have two different kinds of flowers growing in him, nor did he expect to fall for two people at the same time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> At last, the long awaited sequel to Red Aster. Just posting the first two chapters for now. They've been done for a while down but I'm tired of worrying about them so I'm posting them now.

He should have seen it coming.

He saw it all happening to Dolokhov three months ago. He saw how it began. He saw the warning signs. The coughing…

Yet it still took him by surprise.

It was the night of Andrey and Natasha’s wedding. It had been such a beautiful and joyous occasion. Everyone was there and had a wonderful time. Pierre especially enjoyed himself, seeing his best friend at his happiest.

When he had arrived home, his thoughts were fixated on the newly wedded couple. Andrey was his dearest friend, the only one he could relate to in his lonely life. Natasha was an enigma of this world; overwhelmingly beautiful and charming. He thought about the tranquil love that was in the air as the two were reciting their vows to one another, and how inseparable they were at the reception. He was so happy for them.

He cared about them so much.

But he didn’t realize just how much he cared until he arrived home and began to cough hard. He had been coughing a little throughout the day, and his throat had been a bit sore since a couple days before, but he hadn’t thought much of it. But now he was coughing harder than before.

And then the petals came out and fluttered to the floor.

He stared at them, his body trembling in horror.

The petals were of two different colors and shapes.

Was it even possible for a Hanahaki victim to have two different flowers growing? Was it even possible for to genuinely fall in love with two people at the same time in first place?

He had so many questions.

He needed to talk to Dolokhov.

Two days later, he was standing in front of Anatole’s house; Dolokhov had moved in there a month before. The house technically still belonged to Hélène as well, but lately she was spending a lot of time at Marya’s place, so it was basically just Anatole and Dolokhov living there now.

He knocked on the door, taking a deep breath, hoping the petals would stay held back for a little while longer.

Dolokhov opened the door. “Morning, Pierre.”

“It’s half past noon, Dolokhov.”

“Well, it’s morning for us.” He moved out of the way for Pierre to enter.

Pierre stepped inside the house he had once lived in. It hadn’t changed much since he moved out two years ago, aside from the fact that his books and papers weren’t scattered about here anymore, and his ex-wife was absent. Though he and Hélène were slowly becoming friends again, he was glad she wasn’t here right now; he had to be in the right mood to be comfortable around her, and right now he was as far from that mood as he could get.

“Good morning, Pierre!” a cheerful voice called from kitchen. Anatole stepped out, beaming. “I’m making French toast for brunch. Would you like some?”

Pierre stared at him in surprise for a moment before replying. “Ah, sure. Thank you.”

Anatole nodded and went back into the kitchen. Pierre followed Dolokhov to the hallway of the house, where they could talk in private.

“Anatole cooks now?” Pierre couldn’t help but ask. The Anatole he had always known barely even knew how to turn on a stove.

“He tries to,” Dolokhov chuckled. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Pierre took a deep breath, ready to explain the situation. “Well, you see-” Before he could even properly get a sentence out, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest. He began coughing hard, covering his mouth with his fist.

“Pierre?!” Dolokhov exclaimed.

Pierre’s body shook as he coughed up the yellow and white petals. There was a bit of blood as well. He held his hand out to reveal them to Dolokhov.

His eyes went wide. “Oh fuck…”

“Now you see my problem,” Pierre sighed heavily. “Note how the petals belong to two different flowers.”

“So, you’re in love with two people?” Dolokhov asked hesitantly.

“Yes. I didn’t know it was possible but…it’s the truth.” Pierre looked down at the ground. “To make matters worse, these two people are already a couple themselves.”

“Wait…is it who I think it is?”

“If you’re thinking of Natasha and Andrey, then yes.”

“Goddamn it, old man!” Dolokhov exclaimed, throwing his head back and running a hand through his hair. “ _Them_ , of all people? Two days after they got married? What the Hell are you gonna do?”

“My plan right now is to get the surgery, although the risks high.” Pierre knew his chance of survival would be even lower than the average; his alcoholism and other health issues would likely result in some complications, and the fact there were twice as many flowers in him was a whole other problem onto itself. “But since you’ve been in a similar position before, I wanted to ask you. What do you think I should do?”

Dolokhov was silent for a moment, putting his hand to his chin in thought. “I…I think you should talk to Andrey about this before you do anything. He knows about this disease, right?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure how he’ll react. He’ll likely encourage me to go through with the surgery, if anything. There really isn’t any other option.”

“It does seem like that now, but who knows, maybe you guys can come to some sort of compromise. I mean, I know there’s no way things will just work out like it did with me and Anatole, but still. Just don’t do anything drastic yet. And especially don’t handle it like I did; this thing _will_ kill you if you do.”

Pierre nodded quietly, remembering the critical condition the Hanahaki left Dolokhov in and feeling a chill go down his spine. He wouldn’t have that long to survive, and if he did, he would be much worse off. Not to mention, Andrey and Natasha would be going on their honeymoon in five days and would be gone for the rest of the month; it would be too late by the time he’d be able to talk to either one again. He needed to act fast. “Okay. I’ll talk to Andrey tomorrow-”

“No,” Dolokhov interjected. “Clock’s ticking, old man. Tell him today.”

“Okay, fine. Today it is.”

Before either of them could say another word, Anatole suddenly appeared and embraced Dolokhov from behind, making him flinch.

“Brunch is ready,” Anatole purred, kissing Dolokhov on the cheek.

Dolokhov laughed, nuzzling against his face. “Okay, Tolya. We’ll be there in a minute.”

Anatole released his lover and scurried back to the kitchen. Pierre remained silent as he and Dolokhov followed him slowly.

“You know, I’ve been wondering,” Dolokhov said softly, “is it too early to pop the question?”

Pierre was surprised to hear that, but he smiled. “That’s up to you to decide.”

The French toast was a bit overcooked, but it was edible. At least there was freshly brewed coffee to override the taste.

Pierre paid attention to how Dolokhov and Anatole interacted with each other. They were so open and affectionate. They clearly made each other happy.

He began to think about Andrey and Natasha. Andrey was far from an affectionate fellow, but Natasha was prone to bringing out a side of him that was rarely ever seen. A side to him that could express true happiness, because Natasha was the only one who knew how to melt the frost of his heart.

Little did they know, they both were the only ones who could melt Pierre’s heart, which now felt like it was completely frozen over.

His chest started to hurt. The petals were trying to emerge again.

He gulped down more coffee, wishing it was vodka.


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Andrey, I’m sorry to say that I have fallen love with you and Natasha. I have caught Hanahaki disease. I just wanted to let you know before I consult my doctors about scheduling the surgery._ ”

“How does that sound?” Pierre asked after reading the text aloud. He looked at Dolohov, who was sitting on the living room sofa. The two were alone in the house now, as Anatole had left to see his sister.

“Really, really formal,” Dolokhov said flatly. “Pretty frank, too. It almost sounds like you’re fucking with him. Is that how you two usually text each other?”

Pierre nodded.

Dolokhov sighed. “Fine. Send it.”

With a shaking hand, Pierre sent the text before being hit with another fit of coughs, yellow and white petals scattering to the floor, blood splashing onto his hand. He stared at the blood, unable to rip his gaze away from it. “Why did this have to happen to me now?” he asked quietly.

“Because love is an asshole,” Dolokhov smirked.

Pierre couldn’t help but grin at that. “Well, I can’t disagree there.”

His phone buzzed. He froze.

“What did he say?” Dolokhov asked.

Pierre stayed silent.

“Just read it, Pierre! We don’t have forever!”

“Okay, okay!” He took a deep breath and read the text:

“ _I’m going to discuss this matter with Natasha tonight. Visit us at lunchtime tomorrow._ ”

Pierre’s heart started pounding. He was used to Andrey’s bluntness, but something about it was intimidating now. He showed the text to Dolokhov.

“Well, there you go,” he said. “Visit them. Talk to them.”

Pierre glared at him. “You make it sound so easy, even though it was hard for you to do the same with Anatole.”

“Anatole isn’t anything like Andrey or Natasha.”

“Well, this…” Pierre looked down at the floor as he began to realize something. “This is the first time I’ve ever been afraid to speak to Andrey. It doesn’t feel right.”

Dolokhov rose from the sofa and put a hand on Pierre’s shoulder. “Look, just go home and relax a bit. The more you stress about it, the worse the cough gets. Trust me.”

Pierre sighed. “Okay. Thank you for your help, Dolokhov.”

“Hey, you were there for me when I was like you. It’s the least I can do.”

Pierre left shortly after that. He spent the rest of the day alone at his apartment. His work desk had petals scattered all over it. Droplets of blood stained a few of his papers.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the disease. He couldn’t stop thinking about love. He couldn’t stop thinking about _them_.

He remembered the first time he met Natasha, when his father brought him to one of her family’s parties. Her mere presence was enough to delight everyone in the room, listening to her sing and watching her dance. They were both so young then, and while he had grown more withered and depressed since then, she had remained the same. Almost everyone liked her and enjoyed being around her, and Pierre had never been an exception.

Then he met Andrey in high school. He was a couple of years ahead of him, but the two still found friendship. He was the only one Pierre had ever met that had a mind like his, that asked the same questions about life and humanity.

It was just two years ago that he introduced them at a party. He watched as they fell in love at first sight. Those two would have gotten married the very next day if Andrey wasn’t so busy with work and family issues. Natasha’s love for him was so strong, she waited and waited for him, even when Anatole tempted her.

They were like a real life fairy tale. They had already gone past happily ever after.

Who was Pierre to interfere with that?

Who was he to try to butt in when everything was already perfect?

He was just their friend. He would only ever be their friend. And that was just fine, even if it did hurt him so much right now.

He coughed hard, the petals coming out more bloody than before.

He didn’t care what Andrey was going to say tomorrow, whatever it was.

He needed to get the surgery, for their sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure when Chapters 3 through 5 will be done. Expect them to be posted…eventually.
> 
> Also I literally forgot why I chose yellow daffodil and white daisy as the flowers. I think daffodil symbolizes some deep friendship thing and white daisy has something to do with purity. Something along those lines.


End file.
